The CallGirl In The Corporation
by wynnie the pooh
Summary: Hodgins has a bit of a problem. HIs wife thinks he's ordered a hooker.


_Disclaimer: I wish I owned Bones. I wish I owned Jack too. But sadly, neither is the case._

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* * *

The Call-Girl In The Corporation**

So, yeah. Okay, I'm rich. I know. Don't beat me up about it. If I could choose who my parents were, it totally wouldn't have been the ones I got stuck with. They deserted me soon enough anyway. But I didn't want this bloody corporation to look after. It's like I'm babysitting a kid that's not mine. I want it got rid of. The only thing its good for is maybe the house, and the cars, but I could cope without them. Completely. Without any difficulty at all. If I had Angie, I would be fine.

Which, I guess is kind of the problem. Yeah, we're married. Yeah, she's expecting a child. But apparently, all that stress means that I needed to get my mind off it by ordering a call-girl. I didn't order a call-girl. Hell, I've never had the need for a call-girl. But, hey, who would believe me? Certainly not my wife.

I don't even know where these apparent "paper trails" came from. All I know is that I got a call from Ange around two o'clock, when I was just coming back in from my lunch break (admittedly a little longer than I normally took, but come on, it was the one day a year that I agreed to sit in at the corporation; oversee hirings and all that). She was pissed. And not just that little bit pissed, when you say something that could maybe be considered a little sexist, but I'd been getting better at avoiding that.

No, this was seriously pissed. As in, if-you-say-a-single-word-to-me-don't-expect-you're-testicle-retrieval-operation-to-be-successful, pissed. And I really wanted to keep my balls where they could be useful.

I know, she's hormonal. Pregnant hormonal. Which I guess means she'll get grumpy easily. But still, she should know better than to think that I would hire a call-girl. I mean, I've loved Ange for years. I've loved her since before she'd even let me ask her out. I loved her when she left me. I loved her when she was with her lesbian lover. I even loved her when she was with the one bloody intern that I liked. I didn't stop loving her. And I never had another girl during those times. So, why would I get a call-girl now?

This is somewhat how the conversation went. I'm still trying to figure out what exactly happened:

Me: Hey, babe. How's your day going? I'm hoping I'll be ho-

Angie: What the hell is this I hear?

Me: Um, what?

Angie: Answer me, Hodgins.

Me: Um, Ange, I don't know what you're talking about.

Angie: Sure, you don't. Go ask that Mr Carter, the human resource manager.

Me: The guy that fires people and checks out how people are working?

Angie: That's the human resource manager's job, right?

Me: Yes, but I don't understand-

Angie: Don't you dare lie to me, Jack. I know you hired a call-girl! I'm not naive, Jack. And don't give me any crap about the pressure of a pregnant wife, because I can't impregnate myself, you know! You have to play some kind of part!

Me: Calm down, Angie. What are you talking about? I didn't hire a call-girl.

Angie: Don't talk to me, Hodgins. Go talk to Mr Carter.

And then she hung up. Yeah, she hung up on me. This was about the point where I got _seriously _confused. So, like any guy would do, I went to chat with Mr Carter.

* * *

When I got to his office, he was sitting in his spinning chair, feet up on the table, as if he owned the place. And I knew it on a fact that he didn't own the place.

"Mr Carter?" I said.

"Yes, Mr Hodgins?"

"I just got a call from my wife."

"Angie's a great girl, isn't she?" he said with a smile, and I felt like punching him. Seriously. That's gross. He was totally into her! She's _my _girl.

"Um, sure," I said. "But she wanted to know why I was hiring a call-girl. And I kind of want to know why _I'm _hiring a hooker. I didn't know anything about this. But apparently, you do."

I watched as he paled. Yep, totally guilty. It was written all over his face.

"What did you tell her?" I asked.

"That a payment had been made from your office for a girl from Madame Rosetta's, that business just down the road." He was starting to stutter, and I had the feeling I was intimidating him. I can be really intimidating sometimes. Which Angela seems to find ridiculous. I think it's because of my height.

"And do you know who _really _made this payment?"

He shook his head, but I had the feeling he was hiding something. I walked around his desk and pushed him away from the computer. After a few pushed buttons I found the money trail he had been looking at. Coincidentally, the call hadn't come out of my office. No.

"Mr Carter, how important is your job to you?"

"Um... well... um..."

"You usually do the firing, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I think you were very very stupid to try a stunt like this on the one day of the year that I was in."

He blushed scarlet, and I walked out from behind his desk and over towards the door. "Mr Carter, consider your job position vacant."

And I left.

* * *

It took me half an hour to get home, pushing the speed limit. I was considering taking some sharp corners, but I was in my Porsche and the steering wasn't as precise as the Peugeot. Instead, every part of highway that I managed to catch, I pushed the car a little faster. I needed to see Ange, explain to her, and apologise for the bastard that I made the mistake of hiring.

I pulled into the drive sharply. I heard the tires squeal, but I didn't bother worrying about the marks. Instead, I rushed out of the car and up into the house.

"Ange!" I called through the house. "Angie!"

"Jack?" came the reply. I could hear her moving about in her studio in the back and I rushed towards that part of the house. She met me in the corridor, and I could see the black stains on her cheeks where the mascara had run down her face.

"Angie, Angie, baby," I said, trying to take her hands, but she pulled away from me.

"I don't want to hear excuses, Hodgins."

"I don't have an excuse."

She turned towards me then, letting out a small sigh. I continued before she had the chance to argue.

"Angie, it was Carter. Carter hired the call-girl. But he knew I was reviewing paper trails and stuff today, and he wanted me to get distracted. I fired him on the spot."

She looked at me, studying my face for hints of falsehood. I guessed she couldn't find any, because she took a step towards me.

"I wouldn't do that to you, baby. You should know that. Hey, when haven't I been faithful to you?"

I could hear it in her mind; the sarcastic 'yeah, to me'. But I didn't comment. Instead, I took a step closer to her, slid my arms around her waist. We had been kept further apart lately, by the small bump of her stomach, but somehow, it felt right between us.

"Angie, baby," I whispered, as I ran my lips along her jaw line before kissing her. She kissed me back, and it was as good as the first time she'd ever kissed me. Every time was as good as the first time.

No, I couldn't order a call-girl. She was all the girl I could ever hope for. And I don't care if that makes me sound like a romantic douche-bag, because hell, it's true.

* * *

Just thought I'd clarify that douche-bag is not a word I use on a regular basis. I was having trouble deciding what word could go in there though. If anyone has a suggestion, PM me.

Okay, so this is just a little one-shot about Jack and Angie, my absolute favourite couple. Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
